Overdue
by HallowedSpecter
Summary: Mike's day is already bad enough without Trevor turning up, and Harvey's not being helpful either. *mild swearing and some slash but nothing racy*


**Disclaimer - I don't own any characters you recognise, they belong to the lovely Aaron Korsh and writers of Suits.**

**A/N - so this is my first Suits one-shot. It's quite long, but I hope you enjoy it :) **

Mike dashed into the office at 8:04am, running past the guard, halting at the elevator, and impatiently waited for the doors to open. Finally, the doors slowly slid open and in no time at all, Mike had squeezed himself into the elevator, and was repeatedly pressing the button for the top floor. As if that would make it go faster. Sighing resignedly as the lift creaked into motion, he ran his hands through his windswept hair, trying to arrange it into some semblance of order. Checking his appearance in the mirror, he sighed again with exasperation as he tried to reduce the swelling of his lips by pressing his cold numbed fingertips to the inflamed red skin.

Fucking Trevor. As if today wasn't hard enough without that dick popping up out of the blue asking for money he damn well knew Mike didn't have. Like he had specifically chosen his parents' death anniversary to annoy the shit out of him, first thing in the morning too. Luckily the douche punched like a girl so Mike was able to walk away with no broken teeth or bones or a split lip, only looking like he'd had an over enthusiastic make out session. Which he hadn't - working for Pearson Hardman as well as specifically for Harvey left him socially and - thought he hated to admit it - sexually deprived.

His thoughts drifted to Harvey as he imagined the angry look he'd receive when he walked in late but then the smirk that let him know that they were cool, the raised eyebrow he'd get at the sight of his lips and hair, his laugh when Louis screws up. What his eyes might look like if Mike decided to shut him up by kissing him. Ever since he joined Pearson Hardman, Mike had harboured a teeny tiny hero crush for his mentor. Who wouldn't? Harvey was clever, charming, a match for Mike and not to mention, handsome. At first Mike thought it was just the gratitude getting to him – he didn't know of anyone who would willingly hire a college drop-out (although not by choice) stoner, let alone give him a job at one of the best law firms in New York on pain of losing his own job. But after every win, smart remark and movie quote, Mike felt himself drawn towards the 'best goddamn closer in New York.'

Plus there was that one time where they had stayed late at the office. No one knew about except for Mike. Even Harvey didn't remember; at least that's what he said. They hadn't even kissed – Harvey had got drunk - he was having a hard day with Jessica breathing down his neck and the smoking gun was nowhere in sight for the latest case - and fallen over in his office. Mike had helped him onto the sofa, but Harvey had fallen asleep on Mike and was practically snuggling into him. Mike didn't have the heart to wake him up so he spent the night with the toughest, hardest lawyer he knew curled up on his chest. Who was whose puppy now?

Mike would never bring it up in front of anyone, but all he could think about for weeks after was the smell of Harvey's expensive cologne, the comforting weight as he had fallen asleep on Mike's chest and the way his arms had (albeit unconsciously) wound around Mike's body and hugged him. And the copious amount of scotch he had drunk in order for that to have happened. Mike had slipped out of Harvey's grip at around 5am the next day and put on a fresh suit, then woke Harvey up, who claimed he had no memory of what had transpired. Mike told him an abridged version of events, minus the sleeping together (not like that) and Harvey cocked him a one-sided smiled and thanked him by not stealing his coffee that morning. And from that moment on, he had completely and utterly lost himself to the one person who would never reciprocate his feelings.

The elevator continued on its steady upwards journey. Unfortunately it seemed determined to stop at every floor in between. Finally, almost 5 minutes later, the doors slid open and Mike dashed out of the lift and headed as quickly as possible towards Harvey's office. He was bordering on being almost 10 minutes late, and he somehow fixed it in his mind that if he was less than 10 minutes late, Harvey would be less angry than if he was more than 10 minutes late. But as luck would have it, he was practically running down the home stretch, with Donna's desk in sight and the glass wall revealing a fuming Harvey pacing in his office, when he managed to bump into the last person he wanted to see today. Or ever for that matter.

Louis.

"Ross!" He called out, freezing Mike in his tracks. Slowly and patiently, he turned to face the balding little man, pasting the mostly carefully composed expression of neutrality upon his face. "Morning Louis," he replied, tone laced with pleasantness, yet the urgent undertones still made themselves present enough for Louis to notice. "In a rush, Mike?" Louis questioned knowingly as he looked pointedly at his watch and then in the direction of Harvey's office, knowing full well that Mike should have been in there, well now he should have been there 11 minutes ago. Shit.

Trying his luck, Mike quickly replied "Yes actually, so if you don't mind," before turning around and was about to run when Louis called him back with a taunting little "uh uh uh." Sighing heavily, Mike turned around again to face Louis and accept the fact that he was late. "Have you drawn up the contracts for the Rawlins case?" Louis asked. "Yes, it's all done," huffed Mike "the contracts, the pro bono case, which I won by the way, the settlement agreement, everything you asked for is done and being checked and etcetera with Rachel, so if you don't mind, I need to be going."

Louis shot him that grudgingly impressed look that he saved for when an associate actually did something right, before dismissing Mike. Relieved, Mike ran past Donna and into Harvey's office. And unfortunately into Harvey himself, who was none too impressed with Mike as of late. Harvey stared; eyes wide with surprise as though he'd had an epiphany, down at the dishevelled kid standing chest to chest with him, unsure about how he felt about the contact, before lightly shoving him away, brushing his suit and straightening his tie. "Where the hell have you been? Do you know what the time is? Do you even own watch?" He ranted as Mike dumped his bag on the sofa and then collapsed next to it. Mike looked up at Harvey with his clear blue eyes and Harvey was momentarily stunned. He quickly turned away to gaze at the equally stunning New York skyline that graced his window.

"Never mind, don't answer that question," he continued, growing angrier by the second - this kid had been testing his patience all week. "I am sick of you waltzing in here late like your name's on the door and pretending it's ok - feeding me another damn excuse that you overslept or you got a flat tyre. Today's the third time in row Mike. Get your shit together and get here on time or get out." He turned to look at Mike, who was still sat on the sofa, looking shell-shocked at what Harvey had just said. Steadily, he stood up, keeping eye contact with Harvey like a man who keeps his eyes trained on a snake that could attack at any second. He swallowed and Harvey's eyes followed the bob of his Adam's apple as it glided down and up.

"Ok. I'm sorry," was the simple reply he got from Mike. Harvey sighed as he realised he'd yet again taken it too far but had no desire to apologise and reel it back in again, so instead he kept up the charade. "Sorry is not gonna cut it for much longer around here Ross," he snapped, crossing the room and sitting behind his desk. Shuffling his papers, he pulled out three thick files - one green, one yellow and one blue - and tossed them at Mike who deftly caught them in one hand. Harvey shot him that grudgingly impressed look that he and Louis shared (although Mike thought that Harvey definitely pulled it off a lot better).

"I want you to go through those three files. The blue one is a simple pro bono - sexism at work, screw it up and you might as well not come in tomorrow. The trial is at 1 o'clock and I want you back here at 3. The green one is a will settlement - a client was in the process of redrafting her will in order to include and exclude some of her family from it when she passed away. You'll need to spend some time and actually think and use your brain to come up with a fair settlement for all parties involved. And concentrate - the woman's estate alone is worth up to $50 million. The yellow file contains the basis for a set of contracts between two of our clients - Morecombe and Hannigan. Their firms are collaborating on something but they want safeguards in case it all falls to shit, so they've come to us to create those safeguards. Make sure the rules are clear and there aren't any loopholes. Screw that up and it'll cost the firm big bucks, so I suggest you put any notion of leaving at a reasonable hour out of you mind," detailed Harvey.

Mike nodded and walked silently out of the office without a second glance. Seconds later Donna strode in and closed the door behind her. Casually yet with purpose, she perched on the edge of Harvey's desk next to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. He woke up from his trance of staring at the back of Mike as he left the office, not even noticing that Donna had entered.

"Harvey," she said softly, and he looked her in the eye. "Yes Donna?" He replied automatically, mind still reliving the last couple of minutes over and over again. "What happened last night?" She asked carefully, her tone mingled with uncertainty and concern. Harvey closed his eyes and sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately - sighing with exasperation, frustration, sadness and longing. Not that he'd tell anyone he was longing for something - according to the world, the great Harvey Specter always gets what he wants and when he wants it. "Nothing, Donna, nothing happened," he deadpanned in the hopes of changing the topic. But Donna kept chewing away like a dog with a bone.

"Now we both know that's not true. Not only did you snap at Mike for the thousandth time this week, but you practically ripped him to shreds. Yes, the kid was late again, but so what? He's had a hard week - he's been at the office till 11pm almost every day. And considering that he rides that metal death trap through the jungle that is New York, it's a wonder he makes it in at all.  
"And I know for a fact you went to Zoe's yesterday to see why she wasn't here and she's still not here, which can't be good, so just tell me what happened or I'll call her up right now," said Donna as she pulled out her shiny iPhone from the zip pocket of her skirt. "I've got her on speed dial and I'm not afraid to use it," she threatened lightly when he still hadn't spoken. Harvey looked up at her and then out of the window, unable to keep looking Donna in the eye.

"Zoe broke things off. Not only is she taking the job in London, but she told me that I felt distant. Either too focussed on work or distracted by someone," he explained. "Oh Harvey," whispered Donna. The firm hand gripping his shoulder tightened for a millisecond before it started rubbing soft, comforting circles on his back. "And the thing is," Harvey continued, words tumbling from his mouth without his permission, "I didn't mind. I was almost...relieved. Like now I was free to do what I had wanted to do for so long. But I didn't know what that was until this morning when that idiot stumbled into me, 12 minutes late and looking like he'd just been ravished up against a wall."

Harvey heard the short intake of breath from Donna as the hand on his back froze, and then grabbed his chin, forcing him to look directly into her piercing stare. "Harvey, did you just say what I think you just said?" she said cryptically. "Probably," replied Harvey as he got up to pace the room like he had done this morning and for the exact same reason, and continued to ramble in the most un-Harvey like manner. "But Harvey Specter can't be...It's impossible! I am Harvey Specter, the best god damn closer in town. Hell, the best closer, period. I can close anything, anyone, I can have any woman I want. Hell, Donna if I leapt on you right now you'd just go with it. And you'd like it." Donna choked on air at the thought and Harvey gave her a customary pat on the back, sending her into a spluttering coughing fit. Harvey tossed her a bottle of water from the hidden mini-fridge. "Yet how can I be...that? I'm not against it; don't get me wrong, whatever floats your boat. But that never floated my boat from the beginning and I don't see why it's just started now." Donna finally recovered from her choking and glared at Harvey. "Isn't it obvious?" she questioned. Harvey spun round to stare incredulously at her.

"No it is not obvious Donna. Please enlighten me - how can any part of this situation be obvious?"

"Harvey, you've got a thing for this kid! If you were in the playground you'd be tugging his pigtails and calling him stupid, that's why you keep snapping at him. Plus, you've raised this kid in your image, it's like there's two of you running around the place - and one was bad enough. But now he's just like you and with you being the biggest narcissist ever, of course you'd fall for your own reflection," she said wisely. Harvey continued to stare at her for a long time.

"Bullshit."

~~~~~~~~

Mike walked out the court house with a spring in his step, buoyed by his second win in a row. Hopefully Harvey would quit being a douche once he heard the good news. He was about to get back on his bike when his cell vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw the number for the care home and his heart plummeted. He took the call immediately. "What's wrong? What's happened? Is my grandmother alright?" he shot off quick-fire questions, praying to God that she was ok. If he lost his grandmother today as well, he might as well throw himself under a subway cart.

"Michael calm down," advised his grandma soothingly and Mike heaved a sigh of relief. "Grammy, you scared the hell out of me! I swear we're gonna have to get you a personal cell for you to call me so I don't have a heart attack every time the care home number comes up!"

"Michael, quit your whining we'll deal with your heart problems later," she chuckled, "I was wondering if you were free this lunch time to visit the cemetery with me? I've got flowers," she added as an afterthought. "Absolutely," Mike replied without hesitation. He'd just won the case and he was sure Harvey would understand his lateness once he'd explained it to him.

~~~~~~~~

"You're late. Again," Harvey murmured, barely keeping his frustration and anger in check as Mike rushed into his office at 4pm instead of 3pm. Mike looked at him apologetically, mouth open in protest, ready to explain, but Harvey cut him off. "Save it Mike. I don't wanna hear it. Make sure that is the last time you walk into my office a second, let alone an hour after I told you to be here otherwise it'll be the last time you ever walk through those doors, period," he shouted at Mike who stood there, dumbstruck. After what felt like hours, he finally nodded at Harvey and picked up his bag and strode out of the office with whatever dignity he had left. Mike had a perfectly valid excuse - surely Harvey wasn't that heartless? Even Louis would have cut him some slack. Anger and resentment rising within him, combined with the unwanted desire that had begun to stir whenever they were in the same room, Mike stormed off to the library in order to force himself into being quiet and doing some work, lest he give Harvey another reason to bite his head off.

~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Mike was still hard at work in the library, papers and empty takeaway sushi boxes spread around him like he was in the middle of a papery hurricane. He had already finished the contracts in the yellow file and had worked through about 90% of the will when he finally came across the unfinished, unrevised section of the will. A sticky note was attached to the section and was written in a scrawling handwriting that Mike had never seen before. It read 'Client rushed to hospital in the middle of session, passed away. Next course of action - complete will as per stated in the original copy dated January 26th, 1995.' Mike shuddered. When Harvey said she was in the process of redrafting, he didn't realise that she was actually in the middle of a session. He flicked through the rest of the green file, looking for the original, but came up short. Scrubbing at his hair with frantic hands for the thousandth time that evening, he stood up and headed back to Harvey's office.

The building was almost completely empty, and the top floor even more so. The only offices with lights on were Harvey's, Jessica's and surprise, surprise, Louis'. Mike knocked on Harvey's door, not sure if he had fully recovered from his bout of douche-itis, before slipping into the silent office and gaping wordlessly at the sight in front of him. Harvey was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep; tie loosened, jacket slung over the back and shoes kicked off. A file lay open on the floor, papers falling out of it as if Harvey had dropped then file as he fell asleep. Mike approached his sleeping boss and crouched down next to the end of the sofa where Harvey had laid his head. Fascinated by the peacefulness of his sleeping mentor, Mike couldn't help but lightly trace his fingers over the smooth expanse of his forehead, which was usually creased in surprise, anger and occasionally, amusement. Unable to stop himself, he continued to brush his thumb over his defined cheekbones and then his sharp jawline, until his fingers finally brushed over his full, soft lips. Of course they were soft - how many times had Harvey used Mike as a lackey and made him run down to the drugstore to get that special beeswax lip balm that no-one but him and Donna knew he used? He got through that stuff like Mike got through a bag of chips when he had the munchies. Shaking his head and reminding himself to kick himself in the balls for becoming such a sap, Mike stood up and backed up a couple of feet for decorum's sake.

"Harvey!" he barked loudly and the man woke up with a start before falling off the sofa and landing unceremoniously on his butt. He glared furiously at Mike who was having a hard time containing his smirk. "What do you want?" snapped Harvey as he stood up and dusted off his suit, ignoring Mike's outstretched hand to help him up. Remembering that he was still angry about the punctuality issue, Mike regained his composure before talking again. "I've finished the yellow file - it's on your desk if you want to check it. I also wanted to know where I could find the original will because I need it to finish the final version," he explained as Harvey walked over to his desk and rummaged through the bottom drawer. He pulled out a small bunch of keys and chucked it at Mike.

"Those are keys for the archives - where any resolved case older than a decade is stored. It's inside the file room at the back on the left. Go in, find the file, get out, close the door to lock it and bring the keys back to me. And don't get locked in - there's no handle on the inside so prop the door open or something. I don't wanna have to come rescue you," huffed Harvey as he sat at his desk and began to check over Mike work on the contracts.

"Ok thanks Harvey, be back in a minute," said Mike, shooting Harvey a quick smile. Harvey's jaw dropped a little before he shook his head and shot Mike a stern look. "You'll be back in 10 minutes and you won't be late or you won't come back here at all because I would have murdered you by then. No one would be able to find the body - I've learnt all the best techniques from the mistakes of the idiots I've prosecuted," he said sternly, only the twitch at the corner of his mouth revealing the fact that he was joking, about the not coming back here at all bit at least. The rest of it was dead serious. Mike nodded seriously then rolled his eyes and walked out of the office. As soon and Mike was out of sight, Harvey head-desked repeatedly. Whatever that kid was doing to him had to be illegal. And that talk with Donna only made it worse, more real.

Mike opened the door to the archive room and tentatively stepped inside, searching for the light switch. He found it and turned it on, and the room - more like an oversized cupboard - was bathed in yellowish light. In the dim glow of the old fluorescent lamp that hung from the ceiling, Mike could see thick layers of dust settled atop every box in sight and was immediately cautious. Mike was slightly asthmatic - always had been since he was a child - and it was triggered by smoke and dust. Not severe enough for him to keep a clean apartment or stop smoking weed, but enough to stop him venturing into attics and...well, archive rooms. He contemplated going to get Harvey, but that would require having to explain that he was asthmatic and would ultimately result in being called a wuss and endless taunting for the following month or so. So instead be fished out the handkerchief that his grandma made him carry about, held it securely over his nose and mouth and stepped into the room.

His movements were minimal in order to not stir up more dust, as he looked from box to box. He approached the back wall and rounded the corner and let out a muffled cry of triumph as he spotted the box labelled 'January 1995.' One hand clamped to his face, he held his breath and slowly removed the lid of the box as carefully as possible, trying not to send up a dust cloud in the process. Putting the lid aside, his fingers quickly flicked through the files, stopping and the letter 'S' and then moving more slowly until it stopped at the name 'Stephens.' Slowly removing the file, he replaced the lid and rounded the corner, only to hear the ominous click of a locking door.

Shit.

~~~~~~~~

It had only been five minutes since the door had closed, but Mike's voice was already hoarse from his very manly shouts for help. Unfortunately, this had caused him to practically inhale dust, almost inducing a full blown asthma attack. Growing more panicked by the second, Mike slid down to the floor and leant against the door, as he was bound to pass out at some point. He lifted his hands to brush his hair but clamped them together in order to stop the violent shaking. He closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing, forcing himself not to hyperventilate and drag more dust into his lungs. The claustrophobic feel of the room, as well as actually not being able to breathe properly, combined to form an overwhelming suffocating sensation that seemed to be exploding Mike from the inside.

His head began to hurt as he tried to hold his breath and lights were dancing in front of his eyes. What if he was trapped forever? What if he ran out of oxygen? What if no-one knew where he was or cared that he was gone? His vision swam and an all too familiar scene began to form. Instead of being trapped in the dusty archive room, he was in the back seat of a familiar Ford Sedan. Mike shook his head desperately. Not now, any time but now, he thought, trying to stop the scene from playing. But it was too late.

He tried to remember that someone knew where he was but he couldn't remember that person's name or whether that person gave a shit about him because all he could see - eyes opened or closed - was the car hurtling towards them at 60mph in a 30mph zone and suddenly the car was skidding, crashing into stone cold concrete. He heard the whoosh as air bags deployed and the sickening crack of bones snapping. Mike threw up violently then cradled his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face, and tried to shake the images of his parents' death out of his mind.

~~~~~~~~  
Harvey stared at the clock on the wall. It read 11:22pm. Mike was supposed to be back three minutes ago. He was late for the third time today and Harvey whether he was going to kick the kid's unpunctual little ass when he turned up or back him into a wall and kiss the hell out of him. Down the hallway he heard someone whistling 'Greenback Boogie' and the jangle of keys. Harvey only knew one person who had keys and a good taste in music. When the door to his office opened he expected to see Mike but was astounded to see one of the janitors. With his keys to the archives. Shit.

"'Scuse me, you Harvey Specter? Cause if you are, I've got your keys to the archives and if you aren't, either the wrong name's on the door or the wrong person's in the room," said the old man jokingly, but Harvey was too worried to notice the humour. "Did you close the door to the archive room?" Harvey asked as he jumped out of his seat and came over to where the old man was standing and looking slightly perplexed.

"Yeah, course I did," he replied, confused at the distressed expression on Harvey's face. "How long ago was that?" he asked the janitor urgently. "'Bout...eight minutes I'd say," the janitor said plainly. Harvey swore, then snatched the keys from the man's hands and ran to the archive room as fast as possible, not even bothering to put shoes on.

~~~~~~~~

Mike was breaking down. Fast. He hadn't had a panic attack like this since he was a boy and he couldn't remember how to deal with it. His whole body was trembling worse than a San Francisco earthquake and he was definitely hyperventilating, despite his best efforts to stop. Every minute he spluttered into a coughing fit in an attempt to shift the dust in his lungs but nothing made him feel any better. And the only thing he could hear was the crunch of metal on metal and tyres skidding frantically.

And the click of a lock opening.

~~~~~~~~

Harvey flung the archives door open then immediately stooped to catch Mike underneath his arms to stop him from hitting his head on the floor. He dragged the semi-lucid boy out the room and once he was far away from the room, Harvey dropped to his knees next to Mike's head and put his ear next to his mouth. Thank god he was still breathing. But not well. Harvey looked into Mike's tear-glazed eyes. "Mike, can you hear me?" he said loudly. No response. Harvey asked again louder. And again. And again. Nothing. Frustrated, Harvey looked around before administering a hard slap. Mike shot up like a bolt, clutching his face, still breathing heavily and looked around. His eyes fell on Harvey, who began apologising at once, but was shocked when Mike flung his arms around his neck and began sobbing. Almost reflexively, Harvey's arms snaked around Mike's back and he gave him a tight hug. Mike's body was wracked with sobs and he was clearly in no state to stand up and walk. Sighing, Harvey did the only thing he could - he hooked one arm underneath Mike's knees and held onto his back with the other arm, then stood up as steadily as possible. He walked over to the archive room and kicked the door shut and managed to pull his key out of the lock. Then he made his way back to his office, Mike trembling in his arms.

~~~~~~~~

Harvey laid Mike down on his sofa in his office, trying to remove the hands that were clutched around his neck. He crouched next to Mike and looked him in the eyes and Mike stared back like a rabbit caught in the headlights. "Mike," Harvey said firmly, relieved when he received a small nod in reply, "do you have asthma?" Another small nod. "Do you have your inhaler on you?" A small shake of the head. Damn it. Harvey huffed and stood up straight. Suddenly, Louis burst through the door with a white box in hand.

"What happened? I saw you trying to sneak past my office whilst carrying him," he explained quickly as he strode over to the coffee table and opened the box to reveal a very extensive first aid kit. "Kid got himself locked in the archive room, rookie mistake, but he has asthma yet doesn't carry an inhaler," Harvey said and Louis dug through the medical supplies and pulled out a blue inhaler. "Two puffs of this should do the trick," he said and walked over to the sofa. He pulled Mike up to sitting and then waved the blue inhaler in front of his face. Mike's eyes widened slightly in recognition and nodded. He took the pump from Louis and administered himself two doses. His breathing instantly cleared and he coughed a bit then closed his eyes in relief and leant back against the sofa.

"Thanks Louis, I owe you one," he murmured quietly and then appeared to fall asleep. Louis took the inhaler from Mike's hand before disinfecting it and tossing it back in the box. He looked to Harvey who was staring at Mike, deep in thought, and gave a professional little cough. Harvey looked at Louis. "A word? Outside?" whispered Louis, indicating the corridor with his head. Harvey nodded then placed a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Just gonna go get your stuff Mike, then I'll drop you home, ok?" he said to Mike and received a small nod in reply. Harvey stepped outside the office and Louis followed, closing the door behind him.

"Look, Harvey, I think that kid had more than just an asthma attack," Louis said. Harvey looked sceptical. "What are you now - Louis Litt by day and Dr Phil by night?" he joked and Louis rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, real witty, but look at him - his dazed expression, red eyes - definitely been crying. The kid definitely knows better than to cry when you have an asthma attack - unless he was trying to suffocate himself. And he was in a cupboard, not trapped at the bottom of a well in the middle of a forest, he knew you'd find him sooner or later; what was there to cry about?" rambled Louis before he had an idea. "When you opened the door, did it take a while before he realised it was you?" Louis questioned. "How'd you know? Were you spying on me?" asked Harvey suspiciously.

Louis sneered at him. "No, I have better things to do, but that just confirmed for me that he probably had a panic attack of some kind; probably a flashback of a traumatic event, which would explain why he didn't recognise you as he was still reliving the past. Be nice to him - get him to talk through what happened and then send him to a counsellor or something. Oh, someone better send the janitor back to the archive room; kid probably threw up in there," said Louis as he walked away to find the janitor. Harvey looked at Louis like he was crazy. "How the hell d'you know these things?" he asked and Louis turned around to face him.

"Uh, I'm the senior first aider in the building. Better not stop breathing around me - I'm certified to give CPR and mouth to mouth," he replied, winking at Harvey, who shuddered and Louis laughed and walked away.

~~~~~~~~

Harvey walked back into the office carrying Mike's bag and jacket and found Mike curled up on the sofa, just like he had been less than an hour before. He went and crouched next to Mike, grateful that he was better now, but worried about the potential panic attack that Louis said he might have had. He looked at the peaceful sleeping face in front of him and his fingers came to trace his thin papery eyelids that were the palest shade of lavender. They fluttered and Harvey snatched his hand away. Mike opened his eyes and stared at Harvey with his clear blue eyes and Harvey was momentarily lost. When he found himself, he reminded himself to kick himself in the balls for becoming such a sap. Finally composed, he stood up and held out his hand to Mike to help him off the sofa. Mike looked at the hand in front of him before taking it and standing up unsteadily.

"Come on I'll take you home," said Harvey. Mike nodded and followed Harvey out of the office and down to the garage. As Harvey unlocked his car and chucked Mike's stuff in the boot, he noticed Mike shifting nervously from foot to foot, and not getting into the car. Harvey looked to him for an explanation and Mike swallowed. Again, Harvey's eyes were drawn to the bob of his Adam's apple. Damn it all to hell.

"There's a reason I ride a bike to work," he said cryptically. Harvey had a feeling that cars had something to do with the possible panic attack and swore silently. How was he going to take him home if he won't get in the damn car? "Ok Mike, I understand," Harvey lied as he walked around the car to Mike and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "But whatever the reason is, you have to know that nothing will happen to you as long as I'm here, understand?"

Mike looked at Harvey again with his clear blue eyes, filled with cautious trust and nodded once. Harvey steered him into the passenger seat and dashed around to get into the driver's side. When he turned to Mike, he saw him begin to tremble again, and instinctively he grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "Hey," he called out and Mike head snapped up to look at Harvey, "I'm here." And Mike nodded again. Harvey was about to withdraw his hand when Mike's grip tightened and held their entwined fingers close to his chest as he curled on his side and fell asleep. All Harvey could think of as he drove was that he was so glad he chose to give Ray the day off and drive today, and that he chose the automatic. And that he had utterly lost himself to the kid.

Harvey pulled into his spot in the garage underneath his apartment block, took the key out of the ignition and then turned to look at Mike. He would have dropped him home but the kid hadn't let go of his hand for the whole drive and he figured that he probably shouldn't be alone tonight, given that he had a panic attack and all. Plus, he noticed that those lips that were red and swollen this morning had turned slightly bruised and blue - poor kid had been sucker punched first thing in the morning and all Harvey did was shout at him. He owed this kid the biggest apology ever.

After staring at Mike for almost a minute, he gently shook his to wake him up. Mike's eyes flew open and he sat up straight, staring out of the windscreen in shock. "We're alive?" he asked dazedly and Harvey looked at him quizzically. "Course we're alive! My driving's not that bad. Hell, my driving's not bad at all," he said defensively but Mike released a shaky sigh of relief and an incredulous laugh before he closed his eyes and leant back in his chair, lips moving in silent prayer. Harvey gently tugged his hand out of Mike's grip and slipped out of the car. He collected Mike's stuff from the boot and opened the passenger side door and helped Mike out of the car.

Sleep had turned his fantastically clever associate who hated asking for help from anyone into a pliable puppy who relied on Harvey to help him walk. Harvey took Mike's hand in his again and pulled him slowly towards the elevator. Mike followed without question, not even bothered that he obviously wasn't at home. Once they had gotten into the elevator and Harvey had pressed the button for the top floor, Mike looked in the mirror and then back at Harvey. "I look like shit," he said simply and Harvey laughed. "What's new?" he said jokingly and smiled at Mike, who smiled back as if nothing had happened at all.

~~~~~~~~  
Harvey dumped Mike's stuff in the spare bedroom and then went to check on Mike who was cleaning up in the bathroom. Harvey fished out an old t-shirt, pyjama bottoms and a towel from his closet and then went and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Mike, got some clothes and a towel for you here," he called. "It's open," replied Mike. Harvey raised his eyebrow for no-one in particular. "Yeah, and?" he shot back and heard Mike sigh. "So come in. Don't worry I'm decent, you big wuss," Mike teased. Harvey stormed into the bathroom in a mock rage. "What did you just call me?" he questioned Mike but then his eyes caught sight of a shirtless Mike Ross standing in his bathroom. And sure, it was hot as hell, but that wasn't the surprising part.

"Holy shit, Mike - where the hell did you get those bruises?" he exclaimed as he came forward to inspect them. He pressed his cold fingers to the bluish purple patch that had blossomed on Mike's pale skin. Mike winced and Harvey instantly stopped pressing. "Did you get these this morning?" he asked Mike who was already shrugging into Harvey's old college t-shirt. "Yeah I did but it's no big deal - it was just Trevor being a dick. And I gave it back to him - douche walked away with a shiner of a black eye," Mike said proudly. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he noticed the writing on the t-shirt.

"Harvard - how could I forget?" He said sarcastically as he stripped off his trousers and pulled on the grey bottoms. Harvey rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen to get an ice pack. "I hope you don't - you went there remember?"

"See, I was making a joke because I never forget, but you just ruined it by taking it too far," said Mike as he walked into the kitchen, his suit bunched up underneath his arm. Harvey sighed. "For god's sake put it on a hanger! And the spare room is down the hall, second door on the left," he instructed as Mike trundled off to find the spare room, mumbling about something to do with maniacs and where they can shove their suits. Seconds later he came rushing back into the kitchen.

"That's your spare bedroom? I could fit my whole apartment in there! If that's the spare room, I wonder what your bedroom looks like," he rambled on before realising what he just said and how it might sound to certain people. Harvey just grinned and chucked the ice pack at Mike, who caught it swiftly with one hand, and was glad he had resisted the urge to say something creepy like 'let's go find out together.' Because that would have been wrong and totally not smooth.

~~~~~~~~

"So, remind me again why I'm staying here and not at my own place," whispered Mike as he picked up another handful of popcorn and munched on it loudly, eyes transfixed on the Bourne movie in front of him. "Remind me again why we're whispering," Harvey stage whispered in reply and Mike huffed and looked over at Harvey. "Fine, ruin the cinematic atmosphere. And you still haven't answered my question," he said out loud. Harvey looked over at Mike who was once again concentrating on the film. "You were ill, you couldn't cycle home and I thought you shouldn't be on your own so I brought you here," he said simply and Mike nodded.

"And what was wrong with me?" he asked Harvey.

"You don't remember?"

"I remember being locked in the archive room and having the almost asthma attack. And then you pulled me out and then, I was here. The details in between the archives and the elevator downstairs are a bit fuzzy," he recounted and blushed slightly as he remember clinging to Harvey like his life depended on it, but couldn't for the life of him remember why.

Harvey couldn't decide what to do - if he didn't remember the panic attack, what would be the point of bringing it up and upsetting him? But then he would have to lie and if something else triggered the memory and he was doing something like riding his bike, he could get seriously injured. Or worse, be late to work again. Harvey was just about to start telling Mike what happened when the car on screen crashed into another car, forcing it to crash into a concrete divider. The bowl of popcorn that Mike was holding hit the carpet with a dull thud and his hands began to shake and he closed his eyes but it was there again - his parents staring wide-eyed into the distance, seeing nothing. Mike pleaded with them to wake up - he screamed and he begged and he cried but they wouldn't move and – "MIKE!" shouted Harvey as he shook him and Mike eventually snapped out of it, looking dazedly at Harvey again. Before Harvey could say a word, Mike began to speak, word rattling out of his mouth at a hundred miles an hour.

"It happened today - fifteen years ago today. We were driving home from the theatre. I know, very Bruce Wayne. But we were and this drunk bastard just came out from nowhere, driving at 60 in a 30 zone. And he just ploughed into the passenger side of the car. And it might have been ok but the roads were so icy and my dad was frantically trying to control the car but he couldn't and we skidded and crashed into a pillar underneath the flyover. And they were gone. My parents were gone. And then for almost two years I couldn't get into a car without crying, pathetic I know. But I kept having flashbacks and panic attacks and my grandma helped me and I haven't had one since except for now and earlier when I was in the archive room," he said as realisation dawned on him and he looked at Harvey who had turned a guilty shade of pink. "Mike, I was just about to tell you what happened, I swear," Harvey said as Mike scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"You know I've had a really shit day today? It was bad even for a death anniversary. Firstly, Trevor turns up and tries to rob me but beats me up instead. Then you go all crazy because I was 12 minutes late. Then I won the case and decided to visit the cemetery with my grandma at lunch because I thought you'd cut me some slack once you let me explain, but you didn't. You shouted at me. And then I got locked in a cupboard and had to watch my parents die again whether I wanted to or not," Mike said in a small voice. Harvey's jaw dropped. He stared incredulously at Mike and wondered why he even came into work today, wondered why he didn't tell him yesterday that he wanted the day off. He would have understood. He would have forced him to take the day off if he knew. He still went to visit his father's grave every year, he would have been more than understanding, he would have been empathetic - and he never bothered with empathy or sympathy for anyone. Then again, Mike wasn't just anyone. And now he couldn't think of the actions to do or words to say to make it up to him. And so he began to apologise in the most un-Specter like way possible. Like a normal person.

"Mike I'm so sorry, I had no idea. I was impatient, I was annoyed, I was unreasonable, I -"

But Harvey's apology was cut short by the feeling of lips against his. He closed his eyes as Mike kissed him softly but all too soon those lips were gone.

"I've always wanted to try that, just to see if it would actually work," Mike said as he sat back down in his seat. Harvey was still frozen in place, apology hanging on his lips. Mike looked back at Harvey who still hadn't moved. It was making him nervous. Had he just ruined their entire relationship?

"Harvey? Look, I'm sorry that was completely out of line, I just always wanted to try that. And I really don't need an apology, I underst-" he started but his apology was also cut short as Harvey got up from his seat and crossed over to Mike's side of the sofa and practically straddled Mike who froze, staring wide eyed as though he couldn't believe what was happening. Harvey fisted one hand in Mike's t-shirt and pulled him forward till their foreheads touched, nose to nose and lips millimetres apart.

"Mike, I'm being honest - I've never done this before, and I sure as hell have no idea why I'm doing it now," Harvey murmured, his lips occasionally brushing against Mike's. "So what, am I like your first?" teased Mike and Harvey scoffed. "Yeah right, more like I'm your first," he joked and Mike frowned. "The most surprising thing is that actually I've done this before, and yes I mean this specifically so that would make me your first," Mike recalled smugly, earning a raised eyebrow from Harvey.

"Don't ask."

"Wasn't going to."

"I knew you wouldn't."

"I knew you would say 'don't ask.'"

"No you didn-"

"Shut up," said Harvey finally and pulled Mike into a kiss that was fast and deep and just a little bit desperate. Mike groaned softly and Harvey was filled with relief - no more longing for anyone. Harvey threaded his other hand into Mike's soft hair and dragged him closer till their bodies were in contact from the waist upwards. Mike slipped his hands around Harvey's back; he snaked them underneath his shirt and dug his nails into his back, causing Harvey to gasp into the kiss that tasted of coffee and butter and popcorn. Mike chuckled, his breath ghosting over Harvey's lips, who shuddered at the sensation. He released his hand from Mike's shirt and slid it into Mike's hair further and further, kissing him harder as he pushed him back up against the sofa. Mike gently pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth and Harvey stopped thinking, groaning out loud when a warm tongue flicked tentatively against his. The hands against Harvey's skin were soon pulling upwards on his shirt and Harvey untangled his hands from Mike's hair and tugged his shirt off and dropped it on the floor. Mike ran his hands over Harvey's chest as he applied himself enthusiastically to Harvey's neck, sucking and licking a stripe up to the hollow behind his ear. Harvey's knees buckled slightly and he could feel the grin on Mike's lips against his skin. With shaky hands, he slid them underneath Mike's shirt and continued with an equally shaky voice.

"So come on then, I - ah -showed you mine, you -aahh- show me yours," he said as his hands pulled at Mike's shirt, pausing each time he had bitten gently into his skin, first behind his ear and then at his collarbone. The mouth that was slowly moving downwards in a lazy, haphazard pattern paused for a moment. The hands that were tracing light patterns across his chest withdrew and then Mike pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the floor next to Harvey's. Harvey took in the sight before him, the pale skin covered in a patchwork of bruises in varying shade of blues and purples, the way you could hardly notice them in the low light. And the way those clear blue eyes stared at him with pure want, it nearly set him over the edge. Cupping Mike's face in his hands, he planted a small, firm kiss on his lips. He meant for it to be short and sweet but the sensation of Mike's lips moving against his was addictive and a bomb would have to explode for him to stop kissing Mike.

Or a gunshot.

"Shit!" hissed Harvey as Mike bit his lip by accident, the sudden gunshot taking him by surprise. Both of them had forgotten that the movie that was playing was an action movie. To be honest, they both forgot the TV was still on. Mike sat back and then looked back at Harvey who was touching his lips and pulled his fingers away, spotted with blood. "Damn it Harvey, I'm so sorry," Mike apologised as he sat up and licked his thumb and wiped away the blood from Harvey's lip. Harvey patiently sat still until Mike had finished, ignoring the warm feeling he got when someone took care of him. When Mike finished, he planted a small kiss on the wound and Harvey smiled, planting a small kiss on his forehead. He then stood up and held out his hand to Mike, who took it and entwined their fingers together just like when they were in the car.

~~~~~~~~  
Ten minutes later, the living room was empty - TV was off, popcorn cleared and the lights were out. In Harvey's bedroom, Mike lay hid head on top of Harvey's chest and curled one arm around him. Harvey traced light circles with his fingers on Mike's back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling fully satisfied for once in a long time. Until he realised something.

"Mike - you gave me a fucking hickey!"

Mike just laughed and the arm around Harvey tightened.

"Goodnight Harvey."

"Screw you Mike."

"Not tonight Harvey."

"Shut up Mike."

"Goodnight Harvey."

~~~~~~~~

Harvey pulled into his spot in the garage underneath Pearson Hardman at 7 the next morning. He would have been in earlier but he was somewhat...distracted in the shower by the smirking kid sitting in the passenger's seat. "Told you I would make you late," said Mike smugly as he pulled his hand away from Harvey's and got out of the car. "I never denied it," countered Harvey as he got out and locked the car. They headed to the elevator and Harvey repeatedly pressed the button for the top floor. "You know that doesn't make it go any faster," said Mike knowingly. "I don't care," said Harvey as the doors closed. And suddenly Mike was backed up against the wall. Harvey placed his hands either side of Mike's head. Mike swallowed and again, Harvey stared as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. As Harvey moved in closer and placed his lips against the smooth skin of Mike's neck, Mike said nervously, "You know anyone could walk in at any moment."  
"Good point," said Harvey, but continued to kiss and suck away at Mike's neck. Mike was frantically eyeing the door and checking what floor the elevator was going to stop at next. "Harvey, what are you doing? Come on the elevator's stopping at the next floor," Mike pleaded as the elevator began to slow. Harvey grinned. "Payback," he whispered against Mike's neck before sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and then backed up against the wall on the other side of the elevator, just as the doors slid open. Harvey smirked as Mike clapped his hand to the side of his neck and looked up, trying to act casual.

And in walked Donna.

The smirk was wiped off Harvey's face as Donna looked suspiciously at Harvey. "You're late," she said and Harvey shrugged, feigning indifference.

"So are you."

"Today's my morning lie in."

"I overslept."

"Bullshit."

"I had a guest late last night," he said as he inconspicuously rubbed the hollow behind his ear where he was sure there was a little red patch of skin that Donna would understand. Donna's eyes widened in understanding and turned her Spanish inquisition on Mike next.

"Why are you coming from the parking lot?" she asked and Mike fought the urge to swallow and tell the truth. "Harvey picked me up this morning - to make sure I wasn't late again," he improvised. Donna narrowed her eyes, not fully believing him. "Why's your bike chained up outside then?"

"Harvey dropped me home."

"Why'd Harvey drop you home?"

"We were leaving the office at the same time and it was late."

"How late was it?"

"Past 11."

"Why are you holding your neck?"

"It hurts - from sitting and staring at a computer screen too long."

"Uh huh, right," Donna conceded with bad grace, still not believing him. They stood silently for the rest of the journey to the top floor, Mike massaging his neck/covering the hickey. At floor 38, a woman walked in, arms loaded with files that tottered precariously with every step. She tried to press the button for floor 46 but the files at the top of the pile began to slide and threatened to fall and explode all over the floor. Luckily Mike, with his super-fast reflexes, caught them in his arms and the woman turned to look gratefully and smile at him.

"Thanks," she said as she indicated him to put the files back on the pile. "No it's ok, I can help you carry them if you'd like," he suggested and the woman nodded eagerly. What Mike forgot was that when he caught the files, he let go of his neck, revealing the bright red patch of skin to Donna, who gasped slightly. She looked between Harvey and Mike, who was too busy being helpful to notice Donna had realised. Harvey silently face-palmed as the lift stopped on floor 46 and Mike and the woman walked out, engaging in polite chit chat. As soon as the doors closed, Donna rounded on Harvey.

"You didn't," she said slyly. "Didn't what?" Harvey said, pretending he had no idea what she was talking about. "You got together," she almost squealed, hitting him with her handbag. Harvey shot her a look and she instantly shut up and composed herself. "Right, got it, secret relationship," she whispered and drew her fingers across her lips in a childish zip-locking motion and threw away the proverbial key. Until a thought hit her.

"Did you do that to Mike just before I walked into the elevator?"

Harvey sighed.

Mike walked into Harvey's office fifteen minutes later, looking back at Donna who had just given him the weirdest look yet. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked as he picked up the files Harvey was holding out to him and sat on the sofa. Harvey looked over at Mike who had already started perusing the file, running his fingers over the page as he read. The bright red patch on the pale canvas of his neck has faded to a less noticeable dull crimson.

"Did anyone else ask about the thing on your neck?" Harvey replied and Mike looked up from the file in confusion. "No. Rachel teased me but she didn't ask who did it. Why?" he asked as he went back to reading. "What if she had asked who did it? What would you have said?" Harvey asked out of interest. "You," Mike said simply and smirked at the look on Harvey's face. Harvey narrowed his eyes at the associate and shook his head. Mike sighed and explained his answer.

"I would have said you - not to tell the truth, but because you are the last person anyone would ever suspect. No, scrap that - no one would suspect you, period. If you were a plot twist, you'd be as unexpected as the guy being dead in 'The 6th Sense.'" Harvey cocked an eyebrow at Mike who was still reading. "If I were a plot twist?"

"First thing that came to my head. Don't judge me, I'm tired - didn't get the recommended daily amount of sleep because someone -"

"Excuse me, I am right here and can hear all the sordid details of your close encounter of another kind," interrupted Donna over the intercom. Harvey pressed the button to reply. "Then turn off the intercom and get on with your work or I'll tell you the exact details of what we did last n-," he began but never finished as he heard the click and buzz of the intercom being shut off. Mike stared in shock as Harvey released the button and kicked his feet up on the table, leaning back in his chair. "She knows?" Mike whispered and Harvey shot him a pointed look. "Course she knows - she's Donna; she knows everything. Plus, whilst you were being the hero in the elevator, you stopped covering your neck and she obviously put two and two together," he said as if it was no big deal. Mike frowned.

"Where did she get the first two?" he asked cryptically. "Excuse me?" Harvey replied, not seeing where this was going. "You said she 'put two and two together.' If me revealing my hickey was the second 'two' then what was the first 'two?' It can't be your hickey - she believed you. And what reason would she have for thinking we...y'know..." Mike trailed off, gesturing with his hands, and Harvey suddenly realised what he was talking about and immediately turned slightly pink with guilt. He took his feet off the table and walked over the window to avoid Mike seeing the guilt on his face, but Mike didn't miss a thing and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. He picked up his speech where he had left off.

"...Unless, someone had confessed their feelings to her. And though the most likely one out of the two of us would be me, I know it wasn't, so it has to be you!" he finished triumphantly and looked to Harvey who was walking towards Mike with hands up in surrender. "Fine you got me, I talked to her," he admitted grudgingly and Mike's lips twitched into a smug grin. "When did you talk to her, out of interest," he asked curiously. Harvey sat back down in his seat and returned his gaze to the file in front of him. "Yesterday," he said in a measured tone, not looking up from his file. Mike nodded.

"So how long have you-"

"Don't push it, puppy," spat Harvey through gritted teeth and now it was Mike's turn to hold his hands up in mock surrender. "Ok, we'll talk later then," he conceded and stood up to leave. "Will we?" Harvey countered. "You tell me," Mike shot back. "Not if I have anything to say about it," replied Harvey as he rose out of his seat and rounded his desk to stand face to face with Mike. "Well, you don't have a say on this," stated Mike, looking him in the eye. "Oh don't I?" challenged Harvey, tugging Mike closer by his tie in what looked like an aggressive gesture to the outside world but only Mike was close enough to see the playful smirk ghost across Harvey's lips. And apparently so was Donna.

"You cannot kiss him," she interrupted over the intercom, "that is social suicide! Damn, you are so luck you have me to guide you." You could almost hear the smirk as the intercom clicked off. "Imagine all the shit we could get away with if the walls weren't transparent," sighed Mike as Harvey raised an inquisitive eyebrow and pushed Mike away, unaware of how close they actually were.

"Did she just paraphrase 'Mean Girls?'" Harvey asked and he returned to his seat. Mike's jaw dropped and he stood frozen on the spot, staring at Harvey. "Did you just recognise that she paraphrased 'Mean Girls?'?" Mike asked sounding equal parts scandalised and impressed. Harvey scoffed. "Mike, that movie came out almost a decade ago. I was in law school. I watched it. It was funny. No big deal," Harvey explained but Mike was still suspicious.

"Sure Harvey," he said slowly and took his leave. Harvey watched his brilliant associate about to walk out of the door when he had an idea. "Mike!" he called out and Mike swivelled on the spot to face him in askance. "Meet me at the car in the garage at 2pm sharp," he instructed. Mike raised an eyebrow. "What if I'm late?" he asked cheekily and Harvey looked at him pointedly.

"Then you can buy your own lunch," he said and Mike stood there gaping like a goldfish. "Are you asking me out to lunch?" he replied when he had finally found the words. "No I'm instructing you to come to lunch with me. Actually even if you're on time, you're still gonna have to buy your own lunch; but if you're late you just won't have my wonderful company," thought Harvey aloud and Mike rolled his eyes.

"Ok Harvey, see you then," he said as he turned around to leave and strode off, head held high, buoyed by the prospect of their lunch date. One which was well overdue.

**A/N I know Mike wasn't in the crash with his parents, but I thought it would make a good story, so...anyway, hope you liked it - review much appreciated!**


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